The Truth that Lies Within Yourself
by FruitCup
Summary: In which Hariel, Ronald and Hermione accept their negative labels, and thrive off them. Hermione is the smartest person in any room at any given time, Hariel will never be "just Hariel" and Ronald admits to himself that he's nothing special, and he's okay with that. This changes everything, and together take the world by storm, until they're at the very top.
1. Chapter 1

This has been bouncing in my head for a little while. Let's see how far it goes.

I don't have a beta and I'm writing on mobile. Please forgive me for any grammatical errors or typos. I also own nothing.

* * *

Hermione Jean Granger knows she is a know-it-all.

She'd been called that for the first time in third grade, when she corrected Betty Wilkes in front of their entire English class. She'd been called that several times afterwards, the same cruel intonation carrying from tongue to tongue, always derisive and cold.

She doesn't care that her classmates think she's a know-it-all. It stings the first few times, of course. It stings when she is always the last picked for pairs, always the lonely one at recess, always the one not invited to parties. But she's learned to not care, after a few years.

Her parents - they worry of course - try to get her to join some sort of extracurricular activity, try to arrange play-dates - as if she's_ two_ \- to no avail. Children, the blessings that they are to adults, are cruel to each other in the ways that most sadists yearn to be. And when one class makes an outcast of a young girl, it bleeds into the very community.

"She hasn't made a _single_ friend Dan!" Her parents don't mean to, but their hush whispers carry across the hallway as Hermione lays in bed, staring at the darkness of her ceiling. "This isn't healthy!"

"What do you want me to do Janet?" Her father sounds weary, Hermione pictures him running a hand over his face in that exasperated way he does when a patient gives him a hard time, or when he receives another missive from his parents about moving closer to them in America. "We've just established our practice here. We _cannot_ afford to leave, transfer her somewhere else, it just isn't _possible_."

Her mother sobs, the emotional creature that she is. The gasps are low, in consideration for their child who is only a door and a few feet away, but each one strikes Hermione's heart like lightening. She turns over to her side, pulling the blanket as much as she can over her wayward curls, trying her hardest to DROWN IT OUT.

As always, it never works.

"I don't need to have friends," she tells them the next morning, when her mother - bright-eyed and cheery, making the young girl wonder if everything she heard last night had been a dream - asks her if she would like to go to the Easter egg hunt hosted by her school, to try and make some friends.

"I'm going to to be the smartest girl in the world. And the smartest know-it-all isn't going to bother with friends."

* * *

Hariel Lilian Potter knows she is a freak.

As a matter of fact, she'd thought Freak was her name for a very long time, until Aunt Petunia shoves her into a classroom with other children. Hariel was registered a month late - she knows this was because Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wanted Dudley to establish himself with his peers and make friends before she was introduced to the public. And there he is, blond and shiny and quite large, not bothering to hide his laughter as she stumbles into the room, tripping on the hem of his hand-me-down pants.

"Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing," the teacher coos, stepping closer and leaning down to her level. Hariel tries to smile in response, but it probably comes out like a grimace, as Aunt Petunia's bony fingers dig painfully into her shoulder. "What's your name sweetie?"

"I'm Freak," she says quietly, wondering if her full name is Freak Dursley. The dog's name had been Fido Dursley until he ran away, and since she was like a pet too, her surname must be Dursley. Confident in that logic, she speaks up and repeats her name for the class to hear.

"My name is Freak Dursley."

Aunt Petunia smacks her hard on the head, forgetting their audience for a second. Hariel winces as her head began to throb, and reaches up with shaky hands to straighten her glasses.

"Stop that Hariel!" she hisses, but turns to the teacher, whose brow furrowes deeper and deeper at the exchange, and attempts to laugh it off.

"Children just say the funniest things sometimes don't they?" Aunt Petunia twitters, and Hariel does not have to look at her to know she is getting uncomfortably flushed, eyes darting around to look for an exit, like she does every time she was in a situation she doesn't want to be in.

"Her name is Hariel Lilian Potter. She's only been with us for a few weeks now, which is why she's starting so late, unlike dear Dudley over there," she waves at him, but he pretends not to see. "But she has been watching a lot of cartoon shows, you know, with _superheroes_ and such. Poor little thing has made up her own superhero name hasn't she?"

The teacher doesn't look quite convinced at Aunt Petunia's shrill laughter, but her brow unfurrows just a tad, and she pulls herself up to look the bony blonde in her eye.

"Why don't you find yourself a seat, Hariel sweetheart. I think I spot an empty chair over by Shelly - raise your hand, that's a dear - while your Aunt and I finish up your registration, hm?"

Hariel shuffles over dutifully to the table, where Shelly and two other children sit, crayons and paper scattered all over. She glances behind her, Dudley's table is across the room. He wouldn't try anything here, would he? She would be safe wouldn't she?

Shelly smiles at her and shoves her bag off the unoccupied chair to make room for the new girl. Hariel mutters her thanks, and is even more shocked when the boy across from her hands her his crayon and a blank sheet of paper to use. No one has ever _shared_ with her before.

"Thank you," she says to him, taking the offered seat. In response, he grins, showing off his missing front tooth.

"I'm Roger," he says. "That's spelt R-O-G-E-R. How do you spell Hariel?"

She blinks. She doesn't _know_ how to spell it, because until a few minutes ago, she didn't _know_ it was her name at all. "I don't know," she finally answers. "I-I'm not good with my letters yet." It was a lie; every few days, Hariel sneaks into Dudley's second bedroom and "borrows" anything she could find that isn't torn apart or broken. More than often, that tends to be books.

Shelly, who seems to be the most outspoken member of the table, declares, "Well, why don't we figure it out. It kind of sounds like Harry, which I know how to spell because it's my dad's name," she shakily scribbles H-A-R-R-Y on her own sheet of paper, "but it's got 'Elle' at the end - that's spelled E-L-L-E," she suggests, watching as the dark haired girl slowly but steadily follows her writing.

"Harryelle," she breathes, sighing happily at the finished product. No longer would she be Freak Dursley, she has her own, special name and it sounds _way_ better than Freak anyway!

"That's an ugly name, _Freak_," Dudley declares suddenly from behind her. All around her, her table-mates stiffen. It seems that even in the short time that they have been acquainted with Dudley Dursley, he has managed to instill the same fear that Hariel has for him into them.

Righteously angry for them, Hariel's eyes unknowingly flash and she retorts, "My name is Hariel, Dudley! I'm not _Freak_ anymore. You should go back to your table, jerk."

The chubby blonde scowls down at his smaller cousin. The moment their teacher and his mother left the room, he wasted not a single moment to assert his dominance over his cousin. He wants her to know that even here, with everyone around, he is still the boss. He did not, however, expect her to retort back, suddenly brave in the face of new companions. He has to show her that nothing has changed, she is still and will always be the friendless freak.

Reaching past her, he grabs the paper with her crayon scribble, ignoring her indignant shout and raising it above his head. Hariel stands immediately, trying futily to grab the paper back.

"What kind of name is Harryelle, anyway?" he sneers, inwardly pleased to be getting a rise out of her. "It's a dumb, freakish name, and no one is going to remember it. All you're ever going to be is F-R-E-A-K." With every letter he rips the paper in two, basking in her soft wail and the horrified gasps of their classmates. After he is finished, he releases the pieces, letting them flutter down onto his cousin's head and around her.

"I learned how to spell it, just for you," he finishes smugly, feeling victorious.

Silence reigns, but only for a second. Hariel's destroyed sheet of paper comes to life around her, swirling angrily, steadily, around the girl, who stands still in the scene of her cousin's cruelty. With a gasp, Dudley tries to take a step back, only to find himself immobile. His gasp turns into a whimper, and then an all out yell as Hariel reaches for him with shaking hands.

"You..." she whispers, her voice carrying across the room despite its softness. "You are the worst family member in the world. I wish it was your parents that died so that you had to come live with mine. I wish it was _you!_"

With a yell, she shoves him, as hard as she can. If it had been merely a physical shove, she would not have been able to make him budge an inch. Unfortunately, this shove holds years of pent-up frustration, years of muffled cries and sobs. Years of magic, kept at bay only by a thin barrier. The barrier snaps, and Dudley Dursley flies from where he stands into the wall behind him, landing with a sick thud. His head bounces on impact in a twisted parody of what he does with his own toys.

From behind her, Shelly screams. She is not the only one. Before Hariel can turn to face them, to order them to _shut up right now,_ the teacher runs in, Aunt Petunia right on her heels. Aunt Petunia screams loudest of all as she takes in the sight of Dudley on the floor, knocked unconscious on impact. Shoving both the teacher and Hariel out of the way, she reaches her son in record time, cradling his head gently and sobbing incoherently.

"What in the blazes _happened_?" the teacher demands, looking about the room for some sort of clue to what could have possibly knocked out such a large kindergartner in the mere matter of minutes that she had left the room.

"I think he fell!" Hariel declares, before anyone can say otherwise. "I think he was coming to greet me, and he tripped - and then he fell! It's my fault," she finishes with a whimper, forcing the tears that she had not allowed to fall earlier to return to the surface. If Dudley can get away with pushing her around by pretending, then she can too, can't she?

"Of course it's not your fault sweetheart," she replies, turning her around and hugging her tightly. "He should have been more careful, honestly, and he knows the rules of staying in his seat unless I say otherwise. Mrs. Dursley, do you need a telephone, to call 999?"

Aunt Petunia, whom Hariel doesn't have to look at to know she is glaring straight at her, simply sniffs and heaves her son into her arms - a feat that the teacher isn't sure how she accomplishes - and walks out the door. Hidden in the folds of her new teacher's dress shirt, Hariel face breaks into her first of many smirks.

The Dursleys are right, she is a freak. But she is much more than that - she is _special._

* * *

Ronald Bilius Weasley knows he is a waste of space.

He isn't like any of his older siblings: smart and cool like Bill and Charlie, or clever like Percy, or funny and imaginative like the twins. He just _is_.

It is alright at first, for him to just _be_, because Ginny is there with him. They play chess and gobstones together, and climb trees and play "pass the Quaffle" on their training brooms, only the Quaffle is a gnome and if one of them don't catch it properly, it takes a great big chomp down on their fingers.

Together, they just _are._ Until the Lovegoods move in.

Luna visits for the first time on a quiet, idyllic Saturday. It is a cloudless day, with song birds twittering about the Burrow. Mother completes her weekly routine of cleaning their lopsided home. He and Ginny sit downstairs, underneath the kitchen table, comparing their Chocolate Frog card collections, when their Floo roars to life, and the brightest robes Ronald has ever encountered fall through.

"Oh hello there Xenophilius, settle in alright?" he hears his mother ask as she enters their foyer, turning down the wireless.

"Yes, well enough, thank you," the man in the blinding green robes replies. Ronald sees him turn away, facing the fireplace as it lights green again, and a second pair of horrendously green robes appeared. By now, Ginny has shoved herself beside him, so she can have a good view of what's happening.

"And this must be dear Luna," his mother cooes as Xenophilius brushes soot off the smaller figure. "Oh she's a beauty, Xeno!"

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley." The girl's voice is high-pitched and lofty, albeit serene in an odd way. "Daddy always said I take after Mommy."

"It's took now, my little moon," the man murmurs. "You _took_ after your mother."

Ronald hears his mother make a small sound - it's one she makes sometimes when she reads one of her after-dinner books. 'Corny novels' Bill and Charlie secretly calls them in the safety of their bedroom, chuckling to themselves. Ron doesn't get why the books are corny, or why that's funny, but he laughs along with them anyway.

"Well, come on in," she exclaims, ushering them away from the fireplace. "Make yourselves at home. Luna, I've got a daughter who is your age as well! She and her brother are always up to something, why don't I see if I can find them for you..."

As Molly voice fades away, the two young Weasleys hear Xenophilius trail after her, commenting on their home.

"What a lovely aesthetic, Molly," he compliments. "How did you manage to lure so many Luminating Bilimbats in here?"

"Er...that might be a question for Authur, you know the Burrow has been in his family for quite some time..."

Luna stays behind in the foyer, swaying slightly in place. Ron and Ginny glance at each other, questioning. Somewhat excitedly, Ginny points at the garish robes, indicating her desire to go up to introduce herself. Scowling, Ronald emphatically shakes his head, gesturing to their unfinished card collections. He doesn't want to share his sister with a newcomer.

Shrugging, Ginny crawls out of their hidden space and straightens herself, brushing her knees absentmindedly. Ron scowls harder, but he follows her lead and crawls out from under the table as well.

"Oh hello," Luna says as they come to view. She is looking in their direction, but her large eyes seems to look _through_ them rather than at them. "I have been waiting for you two to show yourselves."

"Hello," Ginny replies with a grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm Ginevra, but everyone calls me Ginny. And this is Ronald, but everyone calls him Ron." Half-heartedly, he waves at the blonde. She wiggles her fingers in response.

"Hello, Ginevra and Ronald. It's a pleasure to meet you both," her voice is wispy and Ron is immediately creeped out, though he would never admit it to anyone.

Ginny on the other hand, seems to think the blonde is the most charming person she has ever met. She giggles, stepping closer into Luna's personal space. "Why do you talk like that? You sound all grown-up, like Percy."

Luminous blue eyes blink slowly at the girl, as Luna processes the question. "I read a lot of books," she answers simply after a pause.

Ginny nods sagely as if that explains everything. "Percy does too."

Suddenly, their odd guest turns to Ron, for the first time looking right _at_ him, rather than through him. He resists the urge to take a step back at the unexpected focus.

"Did you know that you have Mimbling Pippernaks all over you, Ronald? I can barely see you behind all that fluttering." Luna leans forward and squints to prove her point.

Turning around, Ginny stares hard at her brother, who in turn lookes down at himself and spins in a circle, searching for any sign of what Luna is talking about.

"I don't see anything," Ginny declares finally, tone accusing.

"Well, of course you don't," Luna replies calmly. "You've probably been exposed to them all your life. The longer you're in a Mimbling Pippernaks' presence, the less you can sense it. Honestly, I'm surprised you're not covered in them yourself. They are usually very contagious."

Warily, Ginny takes a step back from her brother, closer to Luna. "Contagious like dragon pox?"

Luna nods, silkly blonde hair falling to her sides at the motion. "Yes, Ginny, exactly like dragon pox. You're very lucky to not have an infestation like poor Ronald here."

"Oi, I don't have dragon pox!" he defends himself, the tips of his ears burning. "Matter of fact, I had it two years ago, remember Gin? And I definitely don't have any Pipper-whatsits."

"Yeah, but didn't you have to stay up in the attic with Sir Ghoulinton so you didn't get me sick?" his sister recalls thoughtfully, although she had been fairly young when this happened. "Only Mom, Dad and Percy could come see you."

Ronald recalls perfectly well. He had been _so_ lonely and bored up there, his parents roped Percy to visit him once a day, to play chess. His other brothers, although they had all been infected previously, couldn't be bothered to visit him either way.

Agitatedly he says, "But that was _real_, not a dumb made up disease by some dumb girl -"

"Don't call her dumb, she reads lots of books! Probably knows ten times as much as you, dungbrain," Ginny emphatically defends her new friend. "Come on Luna, we're going to my room. I'm not playing with Ron anymore until you or Mom say it's safe."

With that she snatches the blonde's hand, stomping up the stairs with her. Ron watches them, dumbfounded for a moment, before his entire face flushes as red as his hair.

"I don't want to play with you anyway!" he yells after her, ears practically smoking in his anger and frustration. "Stupid girls!"

Neither of them bother to reply back.

Hidden under the kitchen table, the youngest Weasleys' card collections lies forgotten. Later that night, Molly magics both binders into their respective rooms, but it is the last time they will sit together and bond over their collections.

Later that evening, after Luna and her father Floo away, Ron offers to help his mother clean the kitchen, just to not feel so useless.

"Oh sweetie, that's nice of you, but you'll only be in the way," she says distractedly, pausing her wand-waving briefly to stroke his ginger waves. The dishes pause in the air until she returns her attention back to them.

"If you have nothing to do, why don't you go up into the attic? I know Sir Ghoulinton always keeps you entertained."

And so Ronald is relegated back into the lonely attic, heart heavy and eyes burning. He rushes in, because he knows the twins will torment him forever if they catch him crying.

Slamming the attic door shut, he furiously wipes the tears off his face. Sir Ghoulinton grunts a hello in recognition of the one Weasley he sees the most and continues wandering aimlessly around the dimly lit attic. Ron ignores the creature, sitting on the door to prevent anyone else from coming in.

His cries are silent, but his body wracks almost violently. The ghoul bangs at the pipes noisily in agitation, and it takes everything for Ron to not scream back at the creature.

After a few minutes, he wipes his eyes one last time. He's stopped crying, but his heart aches like no child's ever should.

"One day," he says to Sir Ghoulinton finally, "One day I'll find who doesn't think I'm a useless waste of space. They'll care about me for _me_, no matter what. And I won't ever let them go."

* * *

Currently I'm deciding whether or not I want to do time skips or write out their school years in detail from the beginning. Updates will be very sporadic, but positive response are always a good way to encourage me.


	2. Chapter 2: Unexpected Meeting

**Hello** all. Here is another chapter of the bunny that won't leave me alone. Hopefully you enjoy it. Also,a big fat thank you to AnimeFanRy for giving me my first and only review so far. I hope this chapter receives some more feedback. Thank you to those who followed and favorited as well.

As always, I own nothing.

* * *

Ronald is _bored_. There is only so much wandering a nine year-old can do around St. Ottery Catchpole - or at least as far as his mother's wards will let him - before he's seen it all.

It's been two years since the eccentric Lovegoods moved in. Being their closest neighbors, the two families see quite a lot of each other. Luna sleeps over often, when her father goes on one of his expeditions to catch the creatures he constantly raves about. After a few instances of him returning empty-handed, Ron has slowly caught on that the father-daughter duo are simply barmy.

Despite the overwhelming evidence that Luna is a certified nut, she and Ginny are as close as peas in a pod. Despite being old enough to understand that her blonde friend doesn't actually see any weird creatures, she humors her endlessly, finding her oddities charming.

Snorting to himself, Ronald kicks despondently at a rock in his way. It's not that he doesn't want Ginny having her own friends, it's just that she's supposed to be _his_. Besides Percy, who couldn't care less about bonding with his siblings, the rest of the Weasley siblings pair off tremendously well. Bill and Charlie: the adventurous duo, Fred and George: the charming twins, and Ron and Ginny.

He hasn't figured out exactly _what_ they are. When they were younger, they used to make up monikers for themselves. "The Spectacular Flamers" to highlight their love for Quidditch had been extremely popular, especially because it had Bill and Charlie rolling on the floor with laughter, although they wouldn't tell them why.

Not that they are anything anymore, to be honest. The most he sees of his little sister nowadays is in passing and during meals. It seems she never quite forgave him for calling her first friend dumb.

A vicious scowl blooms on his features. He had always thought _Ginny_ was his first friend, despite her being his little sister. It seems that was a mistake. Why couldn't he just have _one_ thing that was his, and his alone? With all his strength, Ron kicks another pebble, watching it sail in satisfaction -

\- until it hits the pale, dark-haired girl who pops into existence right in front of him.

* * *

Hariel is having a very eventful day.

Waiting in line to enter the Headmistress' office, she takes the time to unnecessarily straighten her impeccable black pinafore, which matches her shiny Mary Janes and her lustrous black hair, pulled up into a neat, high ponytail.

As always when it comes to St. Rose's Primary student-teacher-parent conferences, she is alone. The Dursleys would rather die than represent as her stand-in guardians for the end of year rituals. As always, she receives curious stares from her classmates' parents, but she dutifully ignores their questioning glances. Even if Petunia, or heaven forbid, _Vernon_ wanted to be involved, Hariel would have declined. This suits her just fine, being on her own.

"Ah, Miss Potter," the Headmistress greets her, peering over her glasses to look at the petite girl who enters her office next. "No guardians this year either, hm?"

"Unfortunately, both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had last minute emergencies," she answers dutifully, giving her a saccharine smile.

"I'm sure they did," she replies dryly, gesturing to the chair. Hariel takes the offered seat gratefully, barely resisting the urge to swing her feet back and forth in the chair. Although she likes to present herself as very grown up and independent, she still has several childish tendencies.

"So," the Headmistress begins once the diminutive girl is settled, looking at her attentively. "As usual, your marks this year are impeccable. Your teachers are already suggesting allowing you access to the Secondary's test prep. As I understand it, the matter of funds has not changed for you, and you will be applying for another scholarship to enter Secondary, is that correct?"

"Actually Headmistress, after next year, I'm afraid I will no longer be attending St. Rose's," she corrects her.

The Headmistress blinks. "Oh, is that so? Ms. Potter, if this has anything to do with a lack of funds, I know several teachers, myself included, who are willing to sponser you."

"It's nothing of the sort, but I appreciate the offer," she declines. "I'm going to a different school, I am legacy there and I will be expected to attend after I turn eleven."

"Legacy?" If she was a dog, the Headmistress' ears would have perked up, Hariel thought in mild amusement. "One of your parents attended this school?"

"They both did, actually. That's how they met." Despite herself, Hariel smiles softly, heartbreakingly.

It takes all of the Headmistress' professionalism to not walk over and hug the senses out of the small girl. Most of the teachers learned early that despite her outward appearance of fragility, Hariel was more mature than her peers, and disliked being treated like a child, or with any amount of pity. She worked hard to get herself accepted into the prestigious private school despite a lack of funds, and worked even harder to keep her place at the top of her year.

"Well, I can certainly say that the Secondary's staff are going to be highly disappointed that they won't have the pleasure of teaching you, Ms. Potter."

Hariel smiles again, a small polite smile that barely reaches her eyes. "Thank you very much for taking me in, Headmistress. This was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I will not forget all that I've learned under your care."

Rising to her feet, she holds her hand out for the Headmistress. Obligingly, the older woman stands as well and shakes her hand. "Have a good summer, Ms. Potter. I'll be seeing you for your last year this September."

With those parting words, Hariel exits the office, always the epitome of proud and strong. Behind her, the Headmistress shakes her head. Those relatives of hers have created a frightening girl with their neglect. She is brilliant and ambitious, no one can deny that, however...

The poor thing desperately needs a friend. Even if she can't see that herself.

* * *

Hariel doesn't waste any time exiting the grand primary school. Sneaking past the rest of girls waiting with their parents, she leaves the principal's waiting room and heads for her locker. Although Dursleys have learned to stay away from her possessions, lest they face her wrath, Hariel is still uncomfortable with the thought of taking her things - things that she bought _herself_ \- into a house she was not welcome in. No, better to leave her schoolbooks here than have to teach Dudley a lesson _again_.

Inwardly, she sighs. Although the Dursleys were mighty afraid of her and her "freakish" abilities, she knew it wasn't enough. Sure she could levitate things around and scare the living hell out of two of the Dursleys, but what if Vernon tried to put his hands on her again? The last time he had tried to shove her into the cupboard, she tried pushing him away using her magic, like she did with Dudley all those years ago. Unfortunately all that did was make the large man stumble, and that made him even angrier.

At the thought of the memory, Hariel's shoulder throbs. Dutifully ignoring it, she continues on her way out of the school building.

Outside, several cars line up in the parking lot, honking excessively to catch their children's attention. The dark-haired girl doesn't bother searching for Vernon's sleek company car. Since the first day he dropped her off, not once has he returned to pick her up. Hariel assumes he had hoped that without a way to reach him, she would be stranded and they would finally be rid of her.

The look of pure horror on his face when she popped into the dining room that night would be a source of laughter for years to come for her.

Ever since she learned of her magic, she sought to learn to do as much as she could. A lot of the abilities she learned came from desperate moments: shoving Dudley into a wall, teleporting to the rooftop while running from Dudley's gang, growing her hair back after Petunia massacred it. She learned to take those emotions she had been feeling and use them to call up her magic.

It wells, like a geyser in her, when she does. Her skin prickles, and her hair stands on end, like static. Petunia caught her once, in the bathroom, when she saw the lights flickering underneath the door.

That was when she found out about her parents. A small smile comes to her face when she thinks of them. Lily Evans and James Potter. Both _special_, like her. Lily was Petunia's sister, and she went to a special magic school when she was eleven, and that was where she met her father.

"No doubt," Petunia sniffed, looking at her in disdain, "in a few years, you will be receiving a letter as well."

Hariel has been counting the days until she receives said letter. Until then, she practices, teleporting to different places, levitating herself and other objects, calling her magic to the surface of her skin until her eyes _burn _with power. She has done this everyday after school, and today is no different.

When she is sure no one is around to look, Hariel closes her eyes and teleports. With a sound no louder than a balloon popping, she disappears from the spot.

* * *

Stunned, Ron gapes at the girl, his brain not quite processing what's happened. She is smaller and shorter than him, she almost looks to be younger than Ginny. She has long black hair with fringe bangs that barely brush her brows. She is dressed in weird clothes - shiny black shoes with buckles, long see-through socks, and a white shirt underneath a heavy black dress.

"Are you a muggle?" He blurts out stupidly, then blushes from the tips of his ears to the his neck.

She gives him an odd look, rubbing the top of her head that was hit by pebble. "If I was a muggle, how would I have gotten here?" She does a quick spin around, taking in the peaceful countryside atmosphere. "_Where_ is here, exactly?"

"St. Ottery Catchpole," he answers, pointing ahead of them towards the town sign. At her blank look, he continues on, "Um, the Diggories live over that way - and the Lovegoods are in the opposite direction."

He helpfully points out the other wizarding families in the area, figuring she must know one of them if she landed here, but her blank look just keeps getting blanker, and he gives up.

"Well then, how _did_ you end up here then, if you're not even from here?" he raises his hands in frustration.

The girl shrugs. "I've been practicing my teleportation, trying to go further and further each time. This is the first time I've ever managed to meet someone else _special_."

She looks at him curiously, bright green eyes examining him thoroughly, and Ron finds himself flushing again. The way she says 'special' while describing him makes him feel warm in his chest.

"Whatdya mean "first time"?" he asks, hoping he doesn't look as red as he feels.

She shrugs smoothly at him as she replies, "I live with muggles. Kind of found out about magic on accident. I thought it was just me for a while but my aunt told me about it later. Since then, I've been practicing."

"You've been _practicing_?" He looks at her with awe. "You've been practicing _apparition_ even though you're an itty bit? Even though you're muggle-born?"

"I live with muggles, but I'm not muggle-born. And I'll have you know, I'm turning nine this summer," she says indignantly, straightening her posture to make herself look older. It only makes her look more adorable in Ron's eyes, but he wisely chooses to not say that. "And of course I'm practicing. I've heard the letter for the magic school comes when we're eleven. How stupid would I look if I showed up and didn't know how to do _anything_?"

Ron flounders for a minute, but the tiny girl's logic makes sense. But still...

"That's not how it's _supposed_ to work though," he protests. "We're supposed to use our wands for magic when we get them at eleven. And apparition is something we learn when we're _seventeen_!"

She smirks at him, her bright green eyes glittering mischievously. "I guess I'm just different," she says simply.

The two children spend the rest of the day together. He leads her to the pond a little ways away from the pebbled path back to the Burrow. They sit underneath the giant willow tree at the bank of the pond, and talk for what feels like hours.

"Well let's see," she hums thoughtfully in reply to his question about what she can do. "There's the teleportation, but what was that you called it? Apparition? I can move things pretty easily, that's probably the one I use the most. I've also changed the way I looked once, but that was out of desperation and I haven't quite been able to manage to repeat it since..."

"By the time we get to Hogwarts, you're gonna be taking classes with the fourth years at this rate," he jokes, still in awe of her abilities, but charmed by her nonchalant and witty personality.

She snorts and leans back against the tree. She's taken off her Mary Janes, her feet wiggling back and forth in pleasure when a cool breeze hits the two. The leaves of the Willow sing in pleasure, and she throws her head back, closes her eyes, and hums along with the tree.

Ron stares at her, a bit dazed. _She must be a faerie_, he thinks to himself. _Like one that dances in bluebells._

And to him, she certainly looks like one, with her slight figure, sleek long hair and dazzling emerald eyes. She looks so peaceful, so comfortable, here with him underneath the Willow, he never wants the moment to end.

Unfortunately, it does.

"Ronald! Ronald, where are you?"

The Bluebell faerie pauses her humming, cocking her head towards the sound. Beside her, Ron's ears burn red in embarrassment.

"That's my mom," he mumbles, "I've stayed out too long."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have realized I was keeping you. You'd best be going then, before she gets worried, eh?"

Her smile is bittersweet. What she wouldn't give for people who worried about where she was, if she happened to be out late. The Dursleys would probably be the first to throw a party if she didn't come home one night. Shaking her head, she dismissed those thoughts. She doesn't need anyone to worry about her. She doesn't need anyone at all.

Wringing his hands, Ron stands. "I'm sorry that I have to go," he begins. "But if you'd like you can come back tomorrow? I'll wait here for you. I would really like to see you again..."

He trails off nervously, looking down at his feet. She blinks and nods, although he misses it.

"Yes, that sounds good," she answers as she climbs to her feet as well. "I can practice here, without any muggle interference."

Ron beams, looking down at her in happiness. She's going to come back! He debates reaching for her, to pull her into a hug, but the moment passes when his mother bellows his name again. This time, she sounds closer.

_Oh no_! He's not quite ready to share his new friend with any of his family. Panicking, he gives the faerie-child and quick arm hug, saying quickly, "I'll be out here at twelve, waiting for you! See you later, Bluebell!" With that he runs off, bellowing back to his mother.

Hariel is confused by the name, but shrugs. He's already too far for her to correct him. She studiously ignores the warm feeling in her belly and the smile threatening to break out on her face, bends down to retrieve her shoes, and pops out of existence.

Hariel and Ron meet everyday afterwards. Sometimes they sit together underneath the Willow, chatting about their lives and the magic school - _Hogwarts_, Hariel learns. Sometimes she practices her magic with him, putting on a water show for his entertainment, or levitating him to the top of the Willow as he shrieks with laughter.

Sometimes he plays chess with her, sneaking out his hand-me-down board. She is a challenge, but no match for him. Sometimes he just talks, telling her all about the world he knows, teaching her about Quidditch and dragons and anything he can think of.

Sometimes, on the bad days, they sit in silence, lost in their darker feelings.

One day Hariel pops in, her glasses snapped in two and a large handprint on her face. Ron puts his arm around the girl's bony shoulders. She stiffens, but doesn't move away.

"I'm here for you," he says simply. She doesn't reply, only pressing herself closer.

Sometimes she pulls his head down into her lap, playing with his fiery hair as he chokes down his sobs. He has spent another day in his family home alone and invisible, prey to the twins' assaults and it's _just too much_ for him to handle.

"They don't deserve your tears," she says fiercely. "Don't ever let them see you cry." He doesn't reply, only wrapping his hands around her middle.

* * *

Ronald paces back and forth around the Willow tree he has come to affectionately refer to as "their Willow" cursing as the lowest branches snag at his hair. Over the past year, he has grown exponentially, shooting up like a weed, much to his mother's dismay. Because him growing up means new robes, something they have been putting off till Hogwarts.

Speaking of...he glances at the letter crumpled in his fist, practically quivering in excitement. _It's finally here_! As soon as he saw the regal owl swoop into the kitchen that morning, he whooped in delight, startling his mother, and dove for the letter. Once he had it in his fist, he ran out of the Burrow, yelling over his shoulder that he wouldn't be back until lunch time.

"We're going to Hogwarts!" The exclamation bubbles out of him before he can control himself. Before, Hogwarts seemed like just another thing he had to do to keep up with his siblings. He has always been excited to get his wand, of course, but how can he compare with brilliant curse-breaker Bill and daring dragon tamer Charlie? And of course, studious perfect Percy, who he has no doubt will be receiving a prefect's badge this year.

None of that matters anymore to him. He is going to Hogwarts with his first friend, his Bluebell, who is smart and powerful and ambitious, and despite all that, hangs out with a nobody like him, and _enjoys_ it.

He sits down, anxiously anticipating the pop that heralds her arrival, absentmindedly petting the letter in his hands. After a few moments, he frowns. Bluebell is late.

Biting his lip, he glances at the watch he nicked from Percy. It's not like her to be late at all, and if she is going to be, she lets him know. She'll be here, he tells himself, fear gnawing at his insides. She has to be here.

Hours pass. Ron has not left, despite it being well after lunch time. _Just a little bit longer_, he says inwardly. _She'll be here_.

As the sun begins to set, just when he is about to give up, his heart pounding in pain and his throat tight, a pop breaks the silence, and Ron rushes to his feet, letter forgotten.

She is shivering, her hair and clothes damp, and she all but drops when she lands. Quickly he catches her before her knees hit the the grass.

"Blimey, Bell!" he exclaims in concern. "What _happened_?"

Her teeth chatter as she tries to respond. "G-Got my le-letterrr...Vern- he wasn't h-happy...t-took me sooo m-many tries to f-find you."

Ron scowls harshly. Those muggles have always been a menace, buy to think one of them was unhappy enough to do _something_ about her letter.

"Wait here," he orders, despite knowing the fact that she's in no condition to go anywhere. Hariel leans against their Willow's trunk, pulling her knees up to her chest and closing her eyes in exhaustion.

A few moments later, the tall pre-teen returns, arms laden with a blanket. "Charmed to stay as warm as you need it to be," he mumbles as he practically swadles his friend, covering her until just her eyes peek out from the edge of the blanket.

Hariel doesn't protest his mothering, allowing herself to get wrapped like a burrito. Hidden underneath the charmed blanket, she smiles slightly his concern.

"So," Ron says as he deems her fully and properly smothered. "What did the dumb muggle do?" He sits in front of her, attentive to her shivers subsiding.

Hariel shakes her head and answers him, voice slightly muffled, "It doesn't matter, he was an idiot to think he could keep me from going. _Nothing_ will stop me from going."

The dark-haired girl squirms a bit in her cocoon until her left hand manages to poke out, clutching an identical letter to Ron's. Anger at the muggles forgotten, Ron grins widely, snatching the envelope in excitement.

"I apparated into water, but I willed the damn thing to not get wet," she says, sighing softly as her body warms up. "You want to open it?"

Ron glances at her, startled. "You want me to open _your _letter? That's like...a big deal!"

The bundle jerks upwards, then comes back down. A shrug, Ron realizes. "It's more of a big deal to me that I get to go than who opens my letter. And besides," she waves her hand, still mostly buried in the blankets.

"Good point," he concedes, turning the envelope over to look at the name and the address. Belatedly he realizes that he's been calling the young witch Bluebell for so long, he never bothered to ask what her actual name is. As he reads the name the letter is addressed to, his eyes widen comically, and he glances back and forth from the bundled girl to the electric green words elegantly inked into the parchment.

Hariel hears her companion make a soft whining noise, and peeks at him curiously. Ron's pale face has gone even paler as he stares at her letter. He looks up at her, and promptly turns green, then outrageously red immediately afterwards.

She makes a noise of concern, reaching out for him slightly. "What's wrong Ronald?"

He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut after a moment. He does this twice more before he can properly speak.

"Y-you're _Hariel Potter?!_"

That evening, Hariel learns one more thing about the world she is about to enter. In her gut, anticipation coils tightly as Ron tells her about her legend, about the reverency she holds in this mystical world. As the setting sun paints them blood red, Ron tells Hariel of the true fate that met her parents, and how she survived the one curse that no one could. That no one was supposed to.

"You are the Girl-Who-Lived," he says, voice awed and reverent.

"I'm much more than that," she replies, her voice strong and unwavering despite the tumultuous emotions brewing in her at the thought of her parents' murder. "I _will_ be more than a title I earned before I was out of diapers. People may know of me in this world, but they will learn _exactly who I am_ when we arrive in Hogwarts."

"W-we...?" His voice is barely above a whisper, and blue eyes lock onto green.

"Of course Ronald. We've been planning this all year haven't we? To take the world by storm, you and I?" Her tone is fond as she looks at him, emerald eyes piercing.

"I-I... But..." he takes a deep breath and shakes his head slightly. "You're _Hariel Potter_. You're the Girl-Who-Lived. I'm just -"

"You're just my _first_ friend. And to you, when have I ever been anything other than Bluebell?"

Ron, later in life, will look back on this memory as the day he places his unwavering and unfaltering loyalty in Hariel.

"You're right. But now I just have to start calling you Hari-Bell instead."

Hariel in turn, will look at this memory as the first time she allows someone to see more than a carefully crafted mask, and she receives nothing but acceptance for who she is, not how _special_ she is. It frightens the girl; she is still just a child despite her efforts to come across as otherwise.

She is a child who has received very little affection or happiness in her short life, but what she sees reflected in Ron's bright blue eyes makes her want to apparate away and move closer to hug him at the same time.

* * *

**Sorry**, there's no Hermione in this chapter. Honestly there's no Hermione until Hogwarts because her back-story is pretty straightforward in the fact that she thrives more on her knowledge than her want for friendship. And honestly I just love me some Ron. Unfortunately a lot of people see him in a bad light because of the last book, and because movie Ron is honestly just a sack of potatoes. So in this he's not going to be perfect, but he's going to be a lot more of a good friend than most people paint him out to be, and he'll be a badass in his own right.

Reviews are nice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello**, everyone.

Thank you to the several people who followed and favorited this story. A bigger thank yoú to those who reviewed. Here's for you guys waiting.

* * *

Hariel Potter is not the person Severus Snape expects her to be.

After Hagrid returns from his trip to retrieve her empty-handed (and isn't that just a doozy,exactly _how_ does a ten year old child disappear from an island without a boat?), Albus guilt trips him into following up after the Dursleys have returned from their impromptu vacation.

Scowling fiercely, he stalks down Privet Drive, aware that he is causing a stir with his robes and foreboding appearance, but surprise, he just can't being himself to care, not breaking his stride for even a millisecond to consider adjusting how appearance to make the muggles more comfortable.

He does hesitate, if only for a moment, when he reaches the doorbell of Number 4. A fleeting thought of apparating away before this impeding disaster of a meeting passes through his mind, but he imagines Albus' sad disappointment directed at him, and squares his shoulders, pressing the button with a hint of a sneer on his pale visage.

Severus prides himself on his Occlumency skills as Petunia answers the door. His face is stone, despite his heart thundering in his chest.

Looking at Petunia reopens old wounds he thought were sealed. No one would ever claim Petunia and Lily to look alike, but as he gazes at her face, decades older and more mature than her remembers, he sees Lily bleeding through her.

Petunia is just as affected by his appearance, it seems. Her knees buckle slightly, and her mouth falls open in a small 'o'. They stare at each other, silent and tense, until a yell from inside breaks the spell.

"Muuummm!" a little boy's voice calls out. "Muuuummm, I'm still hungry!"

Petunia pales, then flushes, and angry red color that splotches her pale cheeks and thin neck. "Why are you here?" she practically hisses at him, her eyes darting past him to check the streets for any witnesses.

"It's lovely to see you too, Pet," he sneers. "I'm here for the girl."

Her flush darkens, and after debating with herself, she pulls the Potions Master through the door, slamming it shut with a bang. Severus allows himself to be manhandled by the slight woman, although the sneer never leaves his face.

A blond, quite rotund child waddles out of the kitchen, whining. "Muumm, I want some more -"

"Hush Dudley," Petunia snaps. "Upstairs, to your room now. Do not leave until I tell you can."

The child looks like he's about to throw a tantrum, his face reddening at a frighting pace, until he spies Severus, and he immediately turns a sickly pale. With a quiet meeping sound, he bounds for the stairs at a pace faster than Severus expected he was able. The dour man's lips twitch as he notices that Dudley's hands cover his large bottom as he runs. It seems Hagrid had success in one aspect of his trip to the Dursleys, even if his main mission had been a bust.

"I dearly hope you haven't fattened up your niece as much as you have your son," he intones, looking around the mundane home with disinterest. "I'd dare say the school will not let others starve to keep up with the voracious appetite you have most likely built for her here."

Petunia doesn't answer, although Severus hadn't expected her to. Her hands clench and and unclench at her sides sporadically, but she doesn't say what's on her mind.

_Better this way_, Severus thinks to himself. _Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, Petunia._

It seems, age has done more than mature her physically, and the thin blonde turns away, allowing both of them to compose themselves slightly.

"Girl!" she calls out abruptly. Severus will always deny that her shrill call startled him. "Come down here!"

There is silence, for a long moment, and Severus scowls inwardly. If the spoilt brat thinks she can simply ignore her aunt's request (although it came out more like an order), she is going to have a hard time at Hogwarts. He certainly is _not_ going to baby her through her school years, Lily's daughter nonwithstanding-

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" A soft, calm voice calls out from _behind_ them. Thanking Occlumency once again, Severus is able to stay perfectly calm, while inwardly he curses fouly and barely stops himself pulling his wand out. _How did she do that?_ he thinks to himself.

Petunia is not so versed in the matter of mind magic, and spins around with a slight shriek, clutching at her heart as it threatens to jump out of her chest.

_"Jesus bloody fucking Christ!"_ Despite the fact that Severus is just as startled, he manages to crack a slight smile. Perfect, proper Petunia cursing up a storm in the presence of magic pulls a nostalgic tune from the dark haired man.

"I apologise, Aunt Petunia. I didn't mean to startle you," the girl says. For a moment, Severus cannot bring himself to turn around. It takes all his strength, all his willpower, to turn and face the daughter of the woman he loved.

Seeing Lily's eyes looking up at him in curiousity is a stab in the heart. Seeing Lily's features, blended with Potter pureblood features, is a twist of the knife logded deeply in him. He's not sure how long he keeps his gaze to her face, tracing it, categorizing what parts of Lily the girl kept and what parts are her father's.

_She's so tiny_, he thinks, the voice in his head weak with his emotion. _So small...smaller than Lily was. Smaller than her cousin...  
_  
Before he can continue on his train of thought, said little girl steps forward, hand thrust at him. "I am Hariel Potter, sir," she begins politely. "My Aunt informed me that someone would be coming for me, to inform me about Hogwarts and how to get into the Wizarding World.

Hariel glances at her Aunt, and if she is startled by the tears shining in Petunias eyes, she doesn't give it away. Severus doesn't notice Petunia's emotional state, focused only on the little girl who looks _so much_ like Lily, but at the same time not at all.

Clearing his throat softly, he takes a slight step forward, grasping her hand in his in a firm handshake. His first thought is of how small, how delicate her hand feels in his, like she a strong gust of wind away from just falling apart. His second is of how surprisingly polite she is, considering who she is and how Petunia spoils her son, Severus had had no doubt in her mind that she was going to be insufferable. But looking at her now...

"Yes, I am Severus Snape, resident Potions Master at Hogwarts. I am also the Head of House for house Slytherin. You may address me as Professor Snape."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to attend to my situation."

...what in the blazing hell did Petunia do to Lily's child? Resisting the urge to give the blonde a questioning look, he keeps his eyes on the serious girl in front of him. And he knows he is tall, he had started towering over his yearmates after third year, but the top of Hariel's head barely even reaches his knees.

_They aren't all that small, are they?_ He has a sinking feeling in his gut about the sort of household Hariel has been raised. Horror and anger swirl in the pit of his stomach, but again, he keeps his focus on the girl, keeping it professional.

"Of course, Ms. Potter. It is the duty of Hogwarts professors to ensure that muggle-born magical children, or muggle-raised, in your case, smoothly find their footing in the Wizarding World," he replies, straightening his spine after releasing her hand.

"I'm sure your aunt has informed you on what she knows about the world your parents came from." It isn't phrased as a question, but Severus pauses, waiting for confirmation.

Hariel clasps her hands behind her back, large green eyes focused entirely on Severus. "She has told me what she can. My mother was a muggle-born, she received her letter at eleven, she was sorted into house Gryffindor, who's emblem is a lion. She met and married my father, both of them dying when I was a little over a year old."

Behind him, Petunia mumbles, "Oh god Lily...I can't do this," and turns around, not waiting to hear more of their conversation and flees upstairs without another word to either. Even though it has been a decade since Lily's death, Petunia has never had closure, and the memories cut through her harshly.

Severus doesn't need to read her mind to know any of this. He's going through the same thing.

Hariel doesn't look at her Aunt for even a second, keeping her eyes locked on the Potions Master. He in turn, meets her gaze squarely, not allowing himself to show how affected he is at her blasé tone about her mother's death.

Clearing his throat, he replies to her, "My main priority is to familiarize you with how to contact people in the Wizarding World, as well as how to retrieve the items you require on your school list, and how you shall be reaching the school this upcoming September. However, considering the..unique.. situation of your _celebrity status_, I will allow questions that do not pertain to Hogwarts, and I will answer them to the best of my ability."

She nods thoughtfully and Severus braces himself for a painful question like, _Why did you not save my mother_ or _Did you honestly think that she was nothing more than a mudblood _but nothing that painful crosses her lips. Of course not. She doesn't know, he reminds himself guiltily.

"My first inquiry is about fees, Professor Snape," she announces, professional and straight to business.

"I understand that I am legacy, however I would like to make you aware that I have no funds to pay for tuition and books. Does Hogwarts have any sort of scholarship or sponsership program that I could apply for? If necessary, I can also provide my reports from my previous school, St. Rose's Primary School. Although it is a muggle school, I assure you that it is a very quality school, and I was always at the top of my year."

"Are your guardians not financially well off?" Severus glances around the house for a minute before bringing his gaze back down to Hariel. It has been a long time since Severus had been exposed to the muggle world, but everything in the Dursleys' looked new and shiny. Her question puzzles him, but the sinking feeling in his gut grows stronger.

Hariel's lips quirk up slightly, watching his eyes rove around in confusion. "I have an...agreement with the Dursleys," she confesses. For a moment, her image of a serious, quiet child breaks, and Severus sees a cold mischief shine through her eyes. He goes rigid, his mind screaming _wrong, wrong_ at the sight something he had only ever seen in Potter's eyes swimming in Lily's.

"Unfortunately, that agreement does not include school fees and tuition," she shrugs casually, and her calm serious demeanor slips back on.

"Well, you will be relieved to know that although Hogwarts does indeed have a scholarship and sponsership program, it will be unnecessary for you. Your father comes from old money, you see," he explains to her. "You have a trust fund available to you now, and once you are of age, you may access the family account."

Hariel hums thoughtfully, then asks, "And this money, is it the same as is used in the muggle world?"

"No, we have our own currency, which I can go more into depth with you once we head out to purchase your books. Is it agreeably with you for us to go today?"

He is breaking protocol by suggesting they go to Diagon Alley on the same day that she has been "officially" introduced to magic, but Severus is a busy man, and he doesn't want to have to come back if he can help it. He also wants to take more time to observe Hariel, see if he can catch a glimpse of the person behind the mask, if only for a second more.

"Yes, certainly, I can go now," she says eagerly.

"Very well, we are going to Apparate there. It is an instantaneous form of transportation, I will have to hold your hand to perform it. You might feel a bit tight on the way, but it will pass quickly. Are you ready?"

She nods, holding out her hand for him to take, which he does. With a loud crack, they disappear from Number 4 Privet Drive.

* * *

The duo arrives in front of the Leaky Cauldron a second later. Severus turns to Hariel, expecting her to be sick, but to his surprise she seems fine.

Her small face is twisted into a slight scowl, and she runs a hand over her chest uncomfortably, but she doesn't look green or look like she's going to vomit.

Impressed, Severus tugs on her hand slightly to get her attention, "This is the gateway into Diagon Alley, one of the biggest Wizarding shopping districts in the country," he tells her, slipping into his Professor persona easily.

Holding on to her, he enters the dark pub. It is mostly empty, which doesn't surprise Severus, considering how early in the morning it is. Tom greets him quietly, eyes quickly moving from him to the child. Severus winces; waiting for the exclamation about exactly who the child he is leading is, but it never comes.

"Ah, hello lass," Tom says, peering over the counter to look at Hariel. "Why, you're just a wee bit, aren't ya? And off to Hogwarts already eh? Good for ya!"

Hariel smiles politely, adjusting the baseball cap on her head...was that always there? Severus frowns, turning fully to look at her. He could swear she hadn't been wearing a hat just a moment ago...

The Potions professor looks at the girl keenly now, suddenly on edge. He is almost positive that she had not been wearing any sort of hat when he met her, but yet here she was, walking into the public's eye for the first time with the perfect accessory to keep eyes off her. He almost wants to ask her if she knows more than she's letting on, but she steps up closer to him, her smile turning mysterious.

"Lead the way, Professor," she requests.

Pushing aside her oddities, Severus does, watching as wonder and glee fill her eyes as the barrier blooms open to them.

No, she can't know more, he decides, watching her take in the sights and sounds with barely concealed awe. After all, she's just a child.

The shopping trip goes quite well, all things considered. After stocking up a hefty sum from Gringotts, Severus leads her through the stores of Diagon Alley, crossing off the Hogwarts checklist as they go. Hariel is attentive as he instructs her on Wizarding culture, nodding in understanding and asking for clarification on occasion. It is almost - dare he say it - pleasant.

He leads the girl to Madame Malkin's, and instructs her to go on ahead. "I have an errand I would like to run while you get your robes fitted," he explains. "I will be back to collect you in half an hour, though if I'm not back by then, please refrain from going off on your own."

She nods pleasantly, "Of course Professor. See you soon."

Hariel walks into the shop, where she is immediately greeted. "Hello," she answers back politely. "I'm here to be fitted for my Hogwarts robes and uniform."

"Right this way darling," Madame Malkin says, leading her to a small platform that faced a full-body, three-sided mirror. To her left, another child with shockingly blonde hair is already being fitted, tape measure flying around him dizzingly.

Madame Malkin rummages through the folds of her robe, pulling a tape measure out. "I'll need you to take your shoes and your hat off dear, alright?"

Hariel does as she's asked, then climbs onto the platform. Quickly checking her reflection, she is pleased to see that her bangs are still hiding her scar. Madame Malkin waves her wand at the tape measure, and it immediately comes to life, twirling around her.

"Alright, hang tight love, I'll be back once it's done," she hurries back to the entrance after hearing the store bell ring.

The other patron smiles at her. It isn't a pleasant smile, he looks down at her condescendingly. "Your parents having a party, little girl? My parents had a party last month, I had to get fitted for new robes as well. Of course, we went to Twilfitt and Tatting's for those; their outer cashmere robes are to die for."

Hariel raises an eyebrow at him. "No," she replies shortly. "I'm going to Hogwarts."

He snorts, looking thoroughly amused. "_You're_ going to Hogwarts? You're like six, aren't you?" The condescending tone in his voice hikes up, and he baby talks to her, "Is the widdle itty bitty baby playing pwetend with her wobes?"

Her eyes glint dangerously at him, "Actually I'm eleven. And I'll let that comment go this time. Since you don't who I am."

He scoffs, "Who _you_ are? Do you know who you're talking to? My father is -"

"I'm not talking to your father, am I?" A dark eyebrow raises at the boy, who sputters wordlessly at her. "I'd suggest you use your next words wisely to change my growing opinion of you."

He flushes darkly, reminding Hariel of Ron for a brief moment, before he gathers his wits and sneers, "Father says the opinion of sheep doesn't matter to the dragon. It's not hard to see which we both are."

_No, it's not_, Hariel agrees silently.

They ignore each other for the remainder of their time in the shop. The boy leaves first, nose upturned to Hariel's amusement. A few moments later, Professor Snape retrieves her, where they make their last two stops: the pet store and the wand shop.

Snape suggests she buys a pet, so she browses the around mentally debating whether or not she'll need an owl - it's not like she has anyone she's going to be owling letters to, besides Ron, and he's going to Hogwarts with her. In the end she falls in love with a gorgeous snowy owl, who hoots at her in greeting.

"You're just the handsomest fella, aren't you?" she coos at him, giggling quietly when he preens in response to her compliment.

"A fine choice, Ms. Potter," the Professor says as they walk out, cage in hand. He offers to hold on to the owl for her, allowing her to shop for her wand privately.

"I will be waiting at the Apothecary for you," he says briskly, taking off when she nods in understanding.

Two hours later, with Ollivander's ominous words burning in her mind, Hariel stumbles out of the dusty store, clutching her boxed wand tightly, blinking blearily at the sun.

Professor Snape steadies her with a strong hand on her thin shoulder. "I was worried I would have to interrupt, Ms. Potter," he says, guiding her away from the bustling crowds.

Hariel's eyes take a few more minutes to adjust to the light, but she quickly apologies to the professor, who nods curtly in acceptance.

"There's no telling how long until a witch or wizard finds a wand they are worthy of wielding. In rare cases, some must have a completely new wand crafted for them," he informs her.

Professor Snape offers to take her out to eat before they return, but Hariel declines politely. She has taken up enough of his time, and quite frankly, she'd like to return home to start reading up on the all the new books she's just purchased. The dark-haired man's lips twitch minutely at her announcement, but he concedes to her.

The Dursleys house is quiet when the pair returns, Snape Apparating them directly into the house. Hariel quickly notes that the telly is quiet, and she can't hear Petunia's fake laugh on the phone.

"They must have left," she informs Snape, "to avoid us returning. All the better to have the place to myself for a few hours."

Severus doesn't react outwardly, yet his mind races with everything he is learning about Hariel and her family. She is smaller than most eleven year olds - the trip to Diagon confirms that - despite her cousin being as fat and big as a whale. Although the Dursleys are well off and living comfortably, Hariel is used to working for her tuition and school funds, like she has no familial support.

Snape stows away everything he is noticing, promising himself to keep an eye on the small girl, no matter what house she ends up in - she seems to be a budding Ravenclaw, from the looks of it.

Passing her the Hogwarts train ticket, he explains to her how to get into Platform nine and three-quarters, warns her to not be late, carefully relieves himself of her trunk and owl cage, and bids her goodbye.

She reaches out again for a handshake, "Thank you again for your help. You were very informative."

"My pleasure, Ms. Potter," and to his surprise, it _is_ a pleasure. "I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks."

As Severus walks out the door, he realizes she didn't ask him a single question about her fame. _Curious child,_ he thinks to himself. _What will the rest of the world make of her?_

* * *

**Did **you know, that only male snowy owls are pure white? Female snowy owls have flecks of brown/black in their feathers. Considering that, I'm making Hedwig a male. I'm still not sure what to name him though, I'm open to suggestions.


End file.
